


You Want To KNOW Something...

by Nj (nanjcsy)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Degradation, Gang Rape, Humilation, M/M, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/Nj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Wildings are done with Jon's attitude and actions.  They find a chance to get a little revenge....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Have All Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DuschaPendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuschaPendragon/gifts).



The baby Crow's arrogance was was like walking through thorns, for Rattleshirt.  His attitude both amused and annoyed Tormund.  Most days and nights, the taunts flew back and forth, only increasing their ire.  If Jon had been a bit smarter, maybe older and therefore experienced.  But he was brash, young and unaware of what he was creating for himself.  Rattleshirt casually said in Jon's earshot, "Tormund, do you wonder when the little Crow lost his virginity?  With that pretty delicate face, they must have been on him, pretty quickly!"  They both laughed as Jon blushed and turned to curse at them.  "Tell us Jon, we know Ygritte must have been your first girl, but who was your first Crow?" The fists come forth then and Tormund only allows the fight for a moment.  After telling Jon to fuck off elsewhere and cool down, Tormund leans down and says to Rattleshirt, "Don't worry yourself, soon we will take him down a little.  Ruffle those pretty feathers of his.  Tomorrow, I am sending Ygritte and the others on a hunt.  The baby crow stays with us, to be plucked, feather by feather."

The next day Jon kisses Ygritte tenderly and watches until he can no longer see her.  Shaking his head and frowning, he must clear his head.  Too many conflicts and hidden betrayals are wearing him down now.  Besides, he is here with Rattleshirt and Tormund, he readies himself for taunting.  He is determined this time, as he is every time, that he will not let get to him. Even though they do get to him, every time.  However, to his surprise, they are silent, seemingly resting.  Jon stands near a tree, awkward and restless.  "Jon, come sit down with us.  It is rare to have time to ourselves, we shall try to enjoy it!"  There was something in the way they sat, in Tormund's eyes.  The warning finally was clear but it was already too late.  Jon took off but they were amazingly fast, yet they drove him like prey.  Forcing him to doge this way then that, until he was so tired, so worn down and then they attacked.  Together they took him down, then used their fists until he was going to stay down.  Both slowly moved back and Jon groaned, writhing slowly.  Grinning, Rattleshirt pulled out a long blade and gently placed it on Jon's throat. 

The beating had kept Jon down but now the blade kept him still.  He could not see anything but the dirt in front of him.  Jon felt terrible pain in his body and icy sharp death beckoning at his pulse.  Then softly, deadly, came Rattleshirt's voice,slithering up his spine, piercing his nervous system.  Jon shuddered.  "Do. Not. Move.  Listen very carefully, baby Crow.  We are tired of your arrogance, your titled southern shit.  So today, while the others are hunting deer, we are hunting you.  We are going to find out whether or not you are a virgin."  Jon spoke through gritted teeth, "No.  Don't you touch me.  I have never, done that.  Hurt me if you want to, but do not touch me."  Not a begging voice, not a scared boy tone, still the arrogance, the command.   It was laced with desperation and fear, but still that arrogant crow.  Tormund reached down, grabbed Jon's hair and yanked upwards.  Grinning into Jon's frozen face, he spoke so cheerfully.  "You don't get to decide, boy.  Do you still not understand?  Are you that stupid?  We are going to fuck you, do anything we like, make you a little whore for the day.  You do not have a choice, Jon."  While Tormund held Jon tight by his hair, Rattleshirt grabbed Jon's wrists and twisted them high on his back.  Almost at the point of straining, breaking, till Jon screamed.  That pleased Rattleshirt and he gave mercy.  By whispering into Jon's ear, "Stay still and I won't break your arms, Jon.  Are you going to be good and stay still?  Be a good bitch for us?"  Panic shone in his dark eyes, but Jon managed a small reply.  "I will stay still."  Rattleshirt considered the answer he received and shook his head.  "Not enough, I think I want you to beg me not to break your arms, bitch.  Go on before I break them anyway."

Jon was horrified, he would be helpless, useless without his arms.  "Please!  Please, Rattleshirt, do not break my arms.  I promise to..to..be ..a good b..b.bitch."  Every word was harder than the last, but Jon managed to get them out.  With sweet relief, Jon felt Rattleshirt ease the grip and allow him to have his arms down a bit.  "Thank you, thank you."  Jon said, hoping by sounding compliant, they would ease off, give him a chance to run or fight.  "See?  A baby crow can be taught to be a good mannered bitch!" Tormund boomed, laughing.  "Now Jon, I am going to be very nice about this.  Since we don't want your clothing all ripped up, I am giving you this one  chance to remove it yourself."  Jon nodded carefully and as slowly as he could, began to remove his outerwear.  He wildly tried to see a way out, an escape, but Rattleshirt had the knife at his back.  Tormund has released him, but stood in front of Jon.  Looming over him, both ready for any sudden movement.  Jon felt hunted and it was terrible. "Enough stalling, take them off, or I will use my knife.  Do you want Ygritte to come back to find you naked like a little whore?"  Rattleshirt's words filled Jon with fresh edged terror and shame.  Trembling, Jon removed his clothing faster and shivered in the cold.  The early morning light caused Wildling shadows to be cast over Jon, engulfing him.


	2. Baby Crow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tormund teaches Jon humility.

As soon as Jon was naked both men whistled and catcalled, making him turn red with embarrassment.  He tried to cup his genitals but Tormund punched him.  "Move those hands!  We want to see everything, give us a show."  "Turn about, Jon or I will start carving your pretty face" hissed Rattleshirt from behind and Jon reluctantly turned.  Staring challengingly at Rattleshirt, Jon kept his hands fisted at his sides.  "Oh, look at the little baby crow with his feathers all ruffled!  So indignant."  Tormund kicked Jon's knees out, so he would fall.  "That is because he is too proud, too arrogant for this kind of treatment.  Isn't that right, Jon?  You are above us, better than all here?  We can fix that wrong assumption for you, Jon.  That misplaced, unearned pride can be fixed right now."

Jon was on his hand and knees, seemingly out of nowhere, Tormund was over him, covering him.  With wild horror, he can feel that the larger man has pulled his cock from his breeches.  He feels it rub against his buttocks, it was hard and Jon began to panic, trying to crawl away.  With horrible ease, Tormund pulled the already weakened Jon back under him.  "Oh, no...my boy, you don't get to decide, remember?  Baby Crow, this is for your own good, a lesson you truly need."  A finger slick with saliva began to play on that tiny hole between his buttocks.  Jon gritted his teeth and kept trying to evade, but there was no where to go.  Tormund's legs were a prison he was caught in.  "Squirming like that just makes it more fun, Jon." Tormund laughed and now Rattleshirt knelt in front of him.  Blade resting gently against his face.  Jon stopped moving.  "Want me to carve your pretty face?  Then stay still and be a good boy."

A thick finger forced its way into him and Jon tried so hard to make no sound.  Sweat dripped down and he shut his eyes tightly.  "Oh, a virgin crow!  He is truly a baby one, they did not pluck him yet.  Tight and hot still.  Don't worry Jon, I can loosen you up a little bit"  The finger going faster and faster, Jon had never felt so violated, so helpless before.  He growled and then said, "Tormund, you made your point.  Please, stop now.  I..I am sorry I was arrogant."  Again those words, hard to speak and it was noticeable.  The finger disappeared and a thick cock began to thrust into him.  Now Jon screamed, mouth wide open, screamed in pain and horror.  "There, that is better.  At least it is another emotion."  Jon screamed and unbelievably, the men laughed.  Then Tormund was not laughing, he was fucking, no,raping and Jon was in agony.  Breathing hard, Tormund was as wild and brutal as his heritage and the Baby Crow under him cried and yelled with every hard thrust.  Tormund leaned closer and bit hard into Jon's neck. Under all that hair, biting deep and drawing blood.  Marking him.  Jon screamed at it and with a deep rough growl, the large man came, shuddering.

When the large man pulled out and moved away, Jon collapsed to the ground.  He began to dry heave as Jon felt the semen leaking down himself.  Rattleshirt kicked him and said, "Baby Crow, you are not done yet, no rest time now.  It is my turn to try out the little birdie."  Shaking his head, Jon tried to crawl away, muttering, "No..no more...don't..don't touch me..please."  Rattleshirt grinned and said, "Well, it is nice to hear the please, but we already told you there is no choice for you."  With sickening ease, he turned Jon onto his back, straddling him and Jon began to whimper.  "Oh, poor little bitch, I know you are scared.  I am going to enjoy this, I am going to give you a brutal fucking.  So maybe you can learn a little manners."   


	3. Little Lordling No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rattleshirt breaks Jon down.

Rattleshirt grinned maliciously down at Jon then put his knife against Jon's scalp. "Such a pretty baby crow.  All that lovely black hair, I could scalp you and hang your hair.  That way everyone can share it's glory.  If you do not do everything I say, I am going to scalp you.  Look in my eyes and see the truth."  Jon stared up and could see that Rattleshirt wanted a reason to do it.  Gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering in shock and pain, he simply nodded. "Good.  Prove it then.  Put your legs up on my shoulders."  The Wildling pulled those legs up and positioned himself.  "Nice thing for you is you are nice and slick now." 

Jon shut his eyes tight, hoping to just get through this with a bit of dignity.  A hard backhand and the growl to open his eyes.  "You will watch me fuck you, baby Crow.  I want you to see what I look like when I come in you.  Shut your eyes and I scalp you, bitch.  Do you  hear me?"  Nodding, Jon stared at Rattleshirt with fear and loathing, such hatred.  The vile man grinned with amused malice and sneered, "You hate me?  Good.  Because I despise everything you are, baby crow, little lording.  Watch me fuck you, feel every brutal inch of it.  That way, when you go to sink your cock into Ygritte, you will see me.  Taking you like the little whore you are now."  Before Jon could get angry enough to respond, Rattleshirt thrusted in.

He cried out, unable to help himself.  Slick or not, he was torn and swollen.  Jon screamed and watched Rattleshirt take him like a common bitch.  The man was indeed brutal, Jon could feel and hear the man's balls slapping against him.  It made him want to vomit and the stabbing cock made him want to die than feel this pain.  "Is the pain bad, Jon?  Are you crying, I think you are weeping like a babe.  Beg me to stop, little lordling, come on, beg me."  Jon bit his lip, trying to go very silent and Rattleshirt slapped his face.  "I said beg me, bitch.  Now.  Or you know what my knife will do."  Rattleshirt made a small cut on Jon's scalp and he yelped out, "Please!  Pl..Please stop, it hurts too much!"  He hated himself, so shamed and Jon began to whimper.  "Please, don't....no more, I am so torn up, please stop."

Rattleshirt began to harder and faster now.  Panting, drops of sweat raining upon Jon, the Wildling bared his teeth, staring down, savagery in his eyes.  Jon desperately wanted to look away or at least have the man not watch him back.  Unhinged, in pain, Jon snapped.  "Please! Please! I am sorry, stop, it's too much!"  The Wildling gave a deep plunge forward, then was almost in Jon's face.  "Not so arrogant now, are you, baby crow, little lordling?"  "No, not arrogant.  Not a crow, not a lord, please, enough, please?"  Jon hated how thin and weak his voice was.  Bracing himself on wiry arms, Rattleshirt raised up again, just above Jon, his cock throbbing deep inside.  "Wrap your legs around me, like a maid would."  Jon did not want to be hit or scalped and with a whimper, he puts his legs around Rattleshirt's waist.

Then the man became an animal and fucked Jon with no mercy.  Jon had no choice but to watch the sweaty face, the growl and it imprinted in his brain. He could not help but scream in both pain and horror as Rattleshirt came. He had to look and see the sudden intake of breath, the grimace of pleasure.  Jon had to feel the ripping of his insides, the sickening warmth of being filled.  Worst of all, was hearing Rattleshirt's stained voice peaking.  "There we go, filling you up now, fucking whore.  This is all you are good for over the wall.  To be a little bitch for Wildlings to fuck and fill up."  The last words were almost strangled as he shuddered to his pleasure and Jon still heard every word.  Rattleshirt panted and dripped more sweat on Jon.  The baby crow lay limp, sobbing.  He had no defiance left, no fight, just shame and humiliation. Then there was a fist tightly gathering Jon's hair. Then an agonizing pain that made him cry out.  For one horrific moment, Jon thought that Rattleshirt had scalped him.  But no, the Wildling was now showing Jon a huge hank of hair cut off.  The man pulled out and walked away laughing.  Tormund and Rattleshirt both left, laughing at Jon's expense.

Later that day when Ygritte and the others came back, Jon was not there to greet her.  He was nearby, hidden, watching from behind a thick tree.  Jon saw the fire lit hair, heard the melodic voice and yearned for her touch.  How will he explain his hair, his bruises and his torn body?  Washing over and over in the river helped, it got rid of blood, semen and their sweat.  But he could still see it, feel it and Jon was hiding till he could find a good explanation.  Finally he decided even if she asked until she went mute from it, Jon would simply remain silent.  He was sure that Tormund and Rattleshirt will not speak of it first.  But he could not stand the thought of anyone knowing.  Jon would be silent.  His decision made, Jon took a step forward, feeling the chill of wind on his head for the first time.  And the small trickle of blood down his leg.


End file.
